


Zuko is the Fandom Bicycle:  Everybody Gets a Ride

by Alabaster86



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 17,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alabaster86/pseuds/Alabaster86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of mainly silly, very tongue in cheek one-shots pairing Zuko with anyone and everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1: Crack that Whip** _

He hated the way his uncle had leered at the bounty hunter. Old people shouldn't do that. It was undignified and it made the young Fire Nation prince uncomfortable. Besides that, Zuko wondered if they were even able to function in _that_ way. He shuddered and tucked the disturbing image that accompanied that thought away for a later time, or never.

June, that was her name, took everything in her stride. It was all about the money, after all. She had no allegiance to nation or king or person. And she made certain that Zuko and Iroh were well aware of that fact. June did not defer to the Fire Nation nobility. She mocked them. While her insults angered Zuko, a part of him was impressed with her brashness. And she was not unattractive. But that didn't matter. He was on a mission to find the Avatar, not indulge himself.

"I can go myself, Uncle. I don't need you tagging along." Zuko brushed aside Iroh's hand.

"Um, nephew, on occasion you can be a bit, hmm….." The portly man stroked his bearded chin and contemplated the kindest way to phrase miserable and nasty. "Undiplomatic, yes, that's it."

"Her beast wrecked my ship, Uncle. She owes us now."

"Somehow, I don't think June will see it that way."

"I don't care how she sees things." Zuko hissed the words and steam emerged from between perfectly shaped lips.

"I see that you're steaming mad now." Iroh broke into hearty laughter. His belly shook and amber eyes shone.

Zuko jutted his chin out and crossed arms over his a chest. He shook his head and stared at Iroh with something akin to pity. Turning on his heel with all the abruptness a pissed of royal could muster, Zuko headed toward the tavern that June liked to spend time in. It was outside the grimy little port town, off by itself in the woods.

_Probably some disgusting hole that's better off hiding amongst the trees._

He shouldn't have worried about finding it. The noise from the tavern traveled quite a distance. Laughter and shouts, crashes and bangs, crude words and cries of triumph all drifted toward the firebenders like wreckage tugged along by the ocean's currents.

The tavern blazed brightly. Lanterns hung from everywhere; from posts, trees, hooks outside windows. It was a patch of warm yellow amongst the cool green of the forest. If he blotted out the noise, Zuko decided the place was _almost_ inviting. But when a drunk stumbled out of the front door and wretched into some long grass, he curled his lip and huffed in disgust.

He did not enter with discretion but instead barged his way inside, weaving with grace around the low brow gamblers and drinkers and those who knew how to have a good time. Queue swishing about like a tail, he ordered imperiously, "Step aside, filth!"*

Iroh apologized to anyone listening. The old man gazed about at the games and the bar and the women. If he were alone, he would sit his behind on a chair and stay for a good, long while. The tavern might be a bit sordid, but he'd seen worse. And sometimes a man just wanted to let go of responsibility, let it sink, hidden from sight, to some recess in his mind, and have fun.

Zuko, not always the most intuitive of people, must have sensed Iroh's desires anyway. "This isn't music night, Uncle. We have a job to do."

Heaving a disappointed sigh, Iroh forged ahead, following his taller nephew. The boy could suck the enjoyment out of just about everything.

Zuko strode forward, eyes now focused on one table, honing in, a wildcat with a rabbit within its grasp. Except June was no rabbit. She was in the middle of an arm wrestling match with a thick-set unshaven man, and had yet to break a sweat. Swigging back drinks with her free hand, she eyed Zuko up and down, a glint in her grey orbs.

"Well, if it isn't my new friends, Angry Boy and Uncle Lazy."* Zuko flushed under her intense scrutiny. He found himself staring at her bare arms, intriguing tattoos, well-defined muscle and all. For all her strength and power, her shape was womanly and gold eyes were drawn to her chest next. "Getting a nice eyeful, boy? Like what you see?" June smirked and finished her opponent off. He flew across the bar and into a handful of rowdy patrons. A fight broke out and the noise set Zuko on edge.

"I'm, I, well, you owe me!"

"I do?" June tipped another glass and drank its contents. "What is it you have in mind? Maybe you should send the old guy away." She flipped straight black hair.

"No, no, I'm quite happy here," Iroh protested.

His face redder than a fresh sun ripened strawberry, Zuko made his wishes known. "You damaged my ship. I want payment."

"That was Nyla. She gets carried away sometimes." Pulling her earnings toward her, June winked and stated brazenly, "Besides, I've got no money." She turned to the bartender. "Drinks on me."

Fists clenched, Zuko leaned in close to June. Her scent was heady, a combination of liquor, soap and woman. He licked his lips, and stuttered, struggling to hang on to his fleeing thoughts. "I need you to find someone. I've got the scent." Without realizing it, Zuko breathed in deep and shuddered.

Iroh, amused by the scene, chuckled softly to himself and muttered something about it being time Zuko found himself flustered by a female.

"Well, that I can do, for a price."

Hands shaking, Zuko pulled out the waterbender's necklace. "No money; I'll consider us even."

"Sorry, Pouty." June pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. She was slightly taller than Zuko and stared down at him. Her painted eyes and painted lips were sultry and seductive and the young man swallowed hard, overwhelmed by her closeness. "I don't work for nothing, prince or no prince." She reached for her whip, tucking it inside her belt.

"There must be something, besides money, I mean, that you want." He couldn't believe the words falling off his tongue. All dignity and composure had fled.

"I might be able to think of something. Come outside with me. Old man, you stay here."

"Be careful, Zuko; she's a feisty one." Iroh gave his nephew a knowing look.

Once out in the fresh air, the fire in Zuko's cheeks subsided a bit. His normal eye widened when June pulled out her whip and gave it a snap. The sound was sharp and crisp and Nyla, her shirshu, shuffled over from some nearby tree.

"Give me the necklace." Her words were a command. "Is this some girlfriend you're looking for, someone who dumped you? I imagine many girls fall for your charm." Those words were steeped in sarcasm and they bit, hard.

"It's the bald monk she's traveling with that I'm interested in."

"Oh, so you like boys?" She flashed Zuko a sly smile.

"No, no, it's just, oh…just, are you going to help me or not?"

She held the necklace in front of Nyla's snout. The huge animal began to snuffle and snort and paw at the ground.

"Here," June said, blue ribbon dangling from her fingers.

When Zuko reached for the necklace, the woman caught his wrist between her fingers and drew him close. He tried to break free but June was strong. She kissed him then, a short, hard kiss that left the prince breathless.

"Wha?" he managed to say when she pulled away.

"Now you can say that you've been kissed by a real woman. And I can say that I've kissed a prince." She grabbed his queue and gave it a tug. "Go get your uncle now. Nyla's anxious."

Completely befuddled and more than a bit dazed, Zuko headed back into the tavern. He touched his fingers to his lips, a delicate gesture.

"Uncle, we're ready."

"What happened to you?"

"N, nothing, nothing at all."

But that wasn't quite true. And when Zuko sat behind Jun, and Nyla sped off, he wrapped his arms about her waist and held on extra tight.

*line taken from actual episode transcript


	2. A Cabbage in the Hand is Worth Two in the Bush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cabbage man is quite taken with Zuko.

_**A Cabbage in the Hand is worth two in the Bush** _

The cabbage merchant, a handsome man in his late forties, trim grey beard, fit and healthy, adjusted his snug fitting green hat, scratching his head while he was at it. The late spring sun beat down on him and sweat trickled, slow and steady, along the knotted bumps of his spine. Irritated, the middle-aged man twisted about, reaching around with one arm, trying to press his cotton tunic against his skin tighter so that the sweat would be absorbed. He gave up after a few moments, sighing, and staring about for some shade instead.

His cabbages at least had shelter from the sun's rays. They rested in his cart, beneath a canvas canopy, piled high, a beautiful rich green, all that was good and wholesome in the world. He needed to protect them. They were his livelihood, his purpose and his love.

Grabbing hold of the cart's handles, he pulled it along with care. He'd spotted a gnarled tree up ahead, half its branches dry and dead, leafless. It wouldn't give much shade, but it was better than the dusty dirt road. He smiled as he leaned back, humming an old Earth Kingdom tune, something jaunty that his father used to whistle. The cart sat nearby, safe and sound, all the cabbages exactly where they belonged. He felt peaceful and calm

His satchel contained a water skin and he drank long and deep, sating his insistent thirst. Rummaging inside the bag, he discovered an apple, slightly worse for its stay inside the enclosed space but still edible.

"Sorry my dears," he called out to his prized vegetables. "There's only so much cabbage a man, even one like me, can eat."

There was a rice ball too, wrapped in soft cloth. Between the apple and the rice, he would be full enough. But he needed to sell some cabbages soon, make some money and head back home to Omashu. He missed his little house and the fertile black soil of his huge garden. Growing was all he knew and cabbages were all he grew. Selling them was often more difficult. He and the cabbages encountered more troubling situations than seemed normal. He was polite and decent and certainly the cabbages were inoffensive. They deserved much better.

The heat was making him sleepy. He let his eyes slide shut and soon snored another tune. Arms loose at his sides, legs crossed at the ankle, he was the picture of relaxation. An hour passed, silent but for the flies that always accompanied the green gems and a slight breeze rustling the odd leaf. He dreamed of cabbage seedlings and huge cabbages, mound after mound after mound, and he smiled.

~~~~0000~~~~

The sound of something pounding its way down the hard packed earth of the road jerked the Cabbage Merchant from his nap. His eyes went immediately to his cart. The cabbages were safe. He thanked his so-so fortune and waited for the animal to appear.

It was an ostrich horse, a fine specimen, and astride the steed was a young man wearing a conical hat, perfect protection from the sun. He looked down at the ground and his shoulders were slumped. The Cabbage Merchant wondered if he were hurt or despondent or just overly tired. Travelling the Earth Kingdom was a challenge and not everyone was up to it.

He must have spotted the tree too, because he reined in the ostrich horse and came to a stop. Without saying a word, he tied the animal off, and sat against the opposite side of the tree. His water skin was empty, the Cabbage Man noted, and his face was gaunt with hunger and something else.

"Here," he offered kindly, handing over his water skin. He had to shift, move closer to the traveler.

"I'm fine." The words were terse and he never bothered to look at his benefactor. Then in softer tones he added, "I just need to rest for awhile."

"You seem troubled, young man. Perhaps I can help."

"And you seem nosey, old man. Perhaps you should mind your own business."

The Cabbage Merchant huffed and withdrew his water skin. "Fine; young people today, no manners, always trampling you and knocking over your cart and crushing your cabbages. What kind of world is this anyway?"

Awkward silence descended like a thick, heavy blanket. The young man squirmed a bit, clearly affected by some sense of guilt.

"Would you like to buy a cabbage? I have plenty." The merchant hated awkward silences. They were so awkward. He shifted some more, and soon he sat beside the traveler.

The young man wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I _hate_ cabbage. It stinks and it's….." He stopped completely, surprised by the look of utter horror and dismay on the merchant's face. "Um, I take it I've offended you?" How could someone get upset over vegetables anyway? It was ridiculous. "They're just cabbages," he resumed. "It's not like they have feelings or anything."

The older man's intake of breath, his soup bowl eyes and his clenched fists forced the other back. "Don't have feelings?" he spluttered. "Don't have feelings?" He moved his face closer, until green eyes stared into gold. "Gold eyes? Just who are you anyway; some Fire Nation warmonger come to take over all the cabbage patches? I won't go down without a fight. I'll die for those beauties. I will."

"I'm Li, Earth Kingdom refugee." He stared down at his lap, picking at the frayed edges of his dull coloured tunic. He said the words with as much enthusiasm as a man being dragged to his execution.

"No, _really_ , who are you?" The Cabbage Merchant persisted. Something wasn't right.

"I'm not saying it again. What do you want, old man, my life story?"

"I just want to make certain that my cabbages are safe. You won't hurt them, will you?"

"I don't want your stupid cabbages. Leave me alone!" The refugee leapt up, untied his ostrich horse and jumped aboard with nimble grace. "All I want is a little peace and a little quiet. All I want is to be left alone." Digging his knees into the animal's sides, he started off down the road.

~~~~0000~~~~

He soon stopped, though. The ostrich horse's feet skidded in the dirt and a cloud rose, thick as cabbage soup, obscuring the traveler for a moment. The merchant broke off a tree branch and assumed a fighting stance. If this guy planned on robbing him after all, he would get in a few good hits first.

"That stick won't do you any good. If you want to save your cabbages, move and let me fight."

"Wha, what are you talking about?"

It was then he heard the sound of more animals, a lot of them. The mounts thundered along the road and mean, tough looking men rode them; bandits, a well known bunch. Instinctively, the green clad man rushed to his cart and laid his body across the vegetables of his labour. He watched as Li unsheathed a fearsome looking sword and then split it in two. Standing in the middle of the road, daring the men to run him down, he was brave and noble and the Cabbage Merchant felt the thrill of something like attraction crawl through his body.

The fight was brutal, violent and bloody, and in the end, Li the Earth Kingdom refugee used firebending to defeat the bandits. Exhausted and hurt, he lay in the dirt, red trickling from several wounds.

The Cabbage Merchant ran to him, water skin in hand. "You're name's not really Li, is it?" He dribbled water into the young man's mouth then gently cradled his head, feeling the skull for damage. "It's all right. You can tell me."

"My name is Zuko, uhhh, owww, Prince of the Fire Nation, **watch it** , son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai."

"Well, I wasn't expecting that! I figured maybe Chan, son of Admiral Chan. But the scar….I should have known."

Zuko sat up, a bit dizzy and disoriented, and put a hand to his scar, worrying the wizened flesh. "Yeah, it makes hiding difficult."

"Why did you come back to help _me_ , a simple Earth Kingdom merchant?"

"I lied," Zuko admitted, casting his eyes downward again. "The truth is, well, I _love_ cabbage."

The Cabbage Merchant swooned.


	3. Behind Those Prison Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ming finds Zuko a pleasant change from the men she works with.

Ming was a pretty young woman with healthy appetites. And she was surrounded by men behind bars, other guards who thought her too soft on the prisoners and Warden Poon who was despicable and ugly too. She'd wanted a job with danger and excitement, something that would get her blood racing and challenge her. What she got was lewd remarks from nasty men, twelve hour shifts, often at night, and a lot of pacing. It paid well enough. That was the one thing that salved her wounds. She saved all the money she could, forsook simple pleasures, and hoped that one day she would have enough to open her own store or stall or go to university.

She felt as trapped as the prisoners sometimes, caged by her own bad choice. But it was secure behind the thick stone walls of Capitol City Prison. She knew her job. She performed it as best she could and she got paid at the end of every week. She was safe there and stunted and stifled and stultified.

"The flower shop is looking better and better," she muttered under her breath as one of the men stared at her with a desire that bordered on obscene. His tongue hung out and he made suggestive gestures. Ming shuddered and ignored the creep. "At least the blossoms don't leer."

Her parents owned a small florist shop and had always assumed that Ming would join the family business, clipping and arranging blooms into pleasing bouquets, and serving the varied customers that entered, looking for that special something or just some colour to brighten a dreary day.

It wasn't bad work. In fact, it was quite pleasant. But Ming was an independent girl and wanted to separate herself from her mother and father, do something individual.

"Stupid," she chastised herself. "Stupid."

"Talking to yourself, Ming?" A middle-aged guard passed her in the damp corridor, deliberately brushing his arm against hers. "Why do that when you can talk with me?" His wink was grotesque and Ming found herself shuddering again.

"Where are all the good men?" she stated aloud. She threw her arms up, exasperated.

"Just what do you consider good?"

"Oh, I don't know; someone who shows me a little respect, someone who doesn't stare at my behind, someone…."

"Yeah, yeah, boring; women don't want respect. They want…."

Ming's leg moved before her mind caught up and within seconds her knee made solid impact with the guard's groin. His face paled, his eyes widened and he bit back a yelp while bending over and rocking back and forth, his agony obvious.

"Oh, oh, crap!" Ming flung a 'sorry' over her shoulder, though she really didn't mean it, and continued on her rounds.

~~~~0000~~~~

Afternoon became evening and evening became night and the sun began its descent, using the sky as its mural, painting it in vivid shades of pink and purple. Ming stepped outside for a few minutes, using her break to get some much needed space and fresh air. As she gazed down the stone walkway that led away from the prison, back down into the crater and Capitol City, she spotted a cloaked figure making its way toward her.

He, for it was a man, Ming could tell, moved with furtive grace, as if accustomed to creeping about in the dark. She wondered what he was doing and what the prison held for him. Standing still, a solid pillar, she waited. He grew closer, his pace quick, and Ming could see that his cloak was of a quality only a few could afford; a nobleman?

Curiosity piqued now, she danced on her toes and silently urged the man on. As he crossed the drawbridge Ming edged forward as if to meet him. When the man passed, he glanced up from beneath the red silk and met her eyes _. His_ were gold and fierce but with a gentleness too. The scar that ravaged the left side of his otherwise perfect face, gave away his identity.

"Prince Zuko," she whispered.

He was there to see his uncle, obviously, the one bright spot in the prison for Ming right now. She knew the older man and his nephew were experiencing difficulties. Iroh's sorrow was evident in his eyes and his voice, whenever he mentioned Zuko. Part of Ming wanted to give the Prince a piece of her mind for hurting Iroh. But she didn't know everything and besides that, guilt oozed from him, bubbling like morning dew on a leaf or a blade of grass.

Another part was captivated by his story and his face both, drawn to the idea of banishment and return, suffering and triumph, the mark of pain and rejection on his features. It was terrible and romantic too.

"Uh, Prince Zuko, I can show you to your uncle if you like." She bowed slightly and wondered at her daring.

The Prince started at her words, scowling for a moment before giving her a curt nod. "Thanks."

She led him to Iroh's cell, walking with confidence along the dreary, damp corridors, hyper aware of Zuko's presence. She left them, all discretion, but waited for Zuko to emerge once more. Ming checked on other prisoners in the same cell block before making her way back towards Iroh's cell.

The young woman almost bumped into Zuko and flushed a pretty pink. She cursed her body for its betrayal. Rarely did she blush. But rarely was she in the presence of someone so handsome. He didn't stare either or make her feel uncomfortable. He was a gentleman, apologizing for hurrying along with his head down.

"I should pay more attention. I'm sorry."

Ming nodded. "How was your visit?" The words came out before she could stop them.

Zuko shrugged, and said nothing, but his shoulders slumped. "Your concern is appreciated. Please watch out for him."

"I do. I will. He's my favorite prisoner." Zuko smile weakly then before heading back towards the outside. Ming trotted after him. "Wait." She put a gentle hand on his arm. "He loves you and he believes that you'll do the right thing."

The prince didn't shake her off. He smiled with more warmth this time. "Thanks; that means more than I can say. What's your name?"

"Ming."

"Ming," he repeated, savoring the syllable. "I'll remember that."

Much later, at home in her bed, Ming dreamed of the scarred prince and smiled.


	4. The Fire Nation Lieutenant's Prince*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko infuriates Jee. But Zuko turns him on as well.

"Insufferable, infuriating little bastard!"

That's what Lieutenant Jee _wanted_ to call Prince Zuko. That's what he deserved to be called. But he was the Prince of the Fire Nation, banished or not, and one must show the proper respect. So he gritted his teeth and he clenched his fists and held on tight to his temper. But alone in his cold, metal room, Jee raged and fumed and threw things at the wall.

Iroh, always a calming, reasonable presence knocked on Jee's door and waited with consummate patience for his old friend to open it.

"What?" the grey haired lieutenant barked as he yanked back the metal slab. "Oh, sorry Iroh, I thought that maybe it was…"

"You thought that maybe it was my nephew come to apologize?"

Jee rubbed the back of his neck and stared sheepishly at the older man. "I suppose that I, well, I'm waiting for the day when he finally does." He sighed then and moved aside so that Iroh could enter. "I don't think that day is coming."

"Zuko can be difficult." Jee huffed and rolled his eyes. Difficult was not the word he would have chosen. "And his treatment of you, well, there's no excuse really. Just bear in mind the blows that he's suffered and the life he's leading compared to the life he expected to lead." Iroh put a hand on Jee's arm. "And today is his sixteenth birthday. He misses home and his mother and _everything_ with special acuity. Please, Jee, have patience. He'll come around eventually."

The truth was, Jee saw a lot in Zuko that was good; determination, perseverance, and underneath his sour and ill-tempered demeanor, a core of decency and kindness. He rarely allowed it to show and its existence did not negate Jee's desire to put the brat over his knee and give him a good spanking.

The truth was too that he knew little about the prince, his journey or his banishment. The boy never spoke of the circumstances surrounding his burn, now a massive, bumpy expanse of scar tissue. Jee wasn't certain if he wanted to know. He did know that the Avatar was their goal, catching the elusive airbender that no one had ever seen.

How many times now had they traveled the world, following a weak clue here, a snippet of information there? Jee was tired of the endless, circular travel, moving from one grimy, pirate infested port town to the next, weeks stuck onboard Zuko's worn out ship, storms and more storms.

"It's been almost three years, Iroh. I could be doing something with my life…..anything."

"Jee, I don't think you know just how much I appreciate your presence here on the ship. You're a good influence on Zuko. Despite his," Iroh cleared his throat, "lack of respect and his brusqueness, I know that he appreciates you as well." The former general in the Fire Nation military rested his hands on his protruding belly. It growled.

"I'd like to think so." The lieutenant hid a smirk. "I'll be up for lunch, Iroh. Right now, I need to cool off a bit."

"You have a nice rest." The burly man patted Jee on the arm. "Cook's making something special today. I can smell it from here."

Jee sniffed his underarms. The only thing he could smell was honest sweat.

_Wish I could make that whelp sweat, give him a real good workout._

He flushed as the image of a shirtless Zuko, well defined muscles rippling beneath that skin, smooth, unblemished and pale as cream, came to mind.

_Where did that come from?_

"Um, yes, well, see you in a bit, Iroh." Embarrassed, though Jee was certain Iroh had seen nothing, he pushed the door shut, cringing at the loud creak that always accompanied such an act. No matter how many times it was oiled, the noise persisted.

* * *

Jee, Iroh and Zuko ate below deck in what passed for a dining area. Each sat cross-legged on a red cushion before a low wooden table that was bolted to the floor. Zuko's uncle tended to the tea, as he always did. Bowls of rice and savory fish stew sat on a large tray. Steam rose elegantly toward the ceiling and the room was filled with delicious smells. Jee's mouth watered and he inhaled deeply. He made sure to sit closer to Iroh. Zuko shot him a scowl.

"How do you like the stew, nephew? Cook worked especially hard on it. I know because I was in the galley watching him." Iroh poured cups of an aromatic brew and smiled. Tea always made him happy, no matter the circumstances.

Zuko snorted and muttered into his tiny red cup. "It's fine."

"So, I hear that it's your bir….." Iroh's face blanched and he threw Jee a horrified look that said 'Stop, stop before you finish the word'. But his efforts were too late. "..thday, Prince Zuko. You're a man now. Congratulations."

_Hardly, though he certainly looks like one._

The prince slammed a hand down on the table, upsetting bowls and cups. Fragrant liquid pooled on to the floor and Iroh mourned the loss of the tea _and_ the stew.

"I told you not to mention my birthday to anyone, Uncle." The unscarred side of Zuko's face was now as red as the scarred side. His expression was surly and full of rage and his focus darted back and forth between Iroh and Jee. "It's not like I have reason to celebrate." He scoffed then, slamming his hands down on the wood once again. "My life is a nightmare. The life I should have…" his voice thickened with unshed tears, "is gone, probably forever."

"Zuko, calm down; let's get some more dinner. Perhaps we can have a music night tonight."

"I HATE music night! Are you stupid or something? How many times do I have to tell you that?" Enraged now, Zuko jumped up and sped from the room as though all the most vicious wild animals of the world were after him.

"Pleasant lunch," Jee quipped. "I can't wait for dinner."

* * *

Zuko was inconsolable. He leaned on the ship's rail and stared down into the water's murky depths. The sea was rough and the waves high, crashing rhythmically against rusting steel. He wanted to disappear into the sea, sink down to its bottom and cease to exist. What good did he do anyway? What purpose did he have? Who wanted him around?

A voice whispered inside, telling him that if he showed more kindness, something he possessed though he usually misplaced it, and more forgiveness, the people in his life, this ragged group of sailors, might actually enjoy his presence.

He jerked at the sound of a fire burst and whipped about, ready to attack. It was Jee, solid body in a classic firebending position.

"Sometimes a good workout relieves stress." It was an offer and it hung in the air like a woman's sweet perfume.

Zuko answered with a blast of his own. One side of his mouth twitched upward in the beginnings of a smirk. "I'll kick your ass."

"We'll see."

They darted around each other, the lieutenant's experience sometimes overcoming Zuko's youth and the afternoon sun, full of heat, blazed down on the combatants. The prince held up a hand and the two stopped for a few minutes. Zuko stripped off his tunic and folded it neatly before placing it in a corner of the deck. His queue bobbed like a bird digging for worms beneath rain softened soil. It caught Jee's eyes. Those grey eyes drifted over Zuko's chest next, hard and firm and so young. Jee flushed again and gave his head a shake.

_What is wrong with you, old man? Has it been that long since you've had a woman?_

It _had_ been a long time, months in fact.

_We need to find a port and soon. This is wrong. He's so young, just a kid, really, sixteen or not._

Zuko felt the heat of his opponent's gaze and turned his own shade of pink. He held his tongue for once, however, somehow flattered that Jee found him attractive. Despite his mistreatment of the lieutenant, he respected the man, both as a human being and as a firebender.

They took up the battle again, circling each other, moving closer and closer, until each could feel the other's warm, moist breath. Gold eyes locked with grey eyes. They leaned closer, their bodies following some ancient dance buried deep in their cells.

"Good sparring match?" Iroh glided onto the deck, a grin on his face.

Zuko and Jee broke apart, the prince reaching for his tunic.

"He's coming along nicely, Iroh, but you know that already."

"Yes, yes I do." He gave Jee a wink then. "We'll be near land soon."

"Good, that's good." Jee threw a sidelong glance the prince's way. He licked his lips without realizing it. "It's about time."

*That's me playing with the film title "The French Lieutenant's Woman'.


	5. Double Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Li and Lo have led colourful lives. And they still feel desire.

"He's grown so much."

"It's been so long."

"Three years."

"Three years."

Lo and Li tucked time ravaged hands into their sleeves and entered their rooms at the palace. Each sank into a comfortable chair with a sigh and put her feet up on its matching ottoman.

"So handsome, even with the scar."

"So handsome; he reminds me of his father and grandfather both." Li stared dreamily into an empty corner of their sparse sitting room.

Lo's face bore a matching wistful expression. "Ah, Azulon; I miss the old bastard. We kept him hopping, didn't we, sister? And he never could tell us apart."

"No one can; and it's going to stay that way." Li's voice had an edge of steel to it now.

These weren't soft old ladies. They were expert teachers, relentless and hard, able to get the best out of their students. They had never taught Zuko.

"Don't worry, Li. That secret will burn to ash just like we will."

Both women cackled, the sound reverberating about the room. And then they fell asleep.

~~~~0000~~~~

"Where will _he_ be sleeping?" Lo caressed a pillow, giving it a wet kiss before setting it down on one of the small cots. "He'll sleep here. I've just decided."

They puttered about their beach house on Ember Island, a tiny thing compared to those owned by wealthy Capitol City families. It sat between two of those monstrosities, dwarfed, barely visible from the shore. But the house had served them well for years and years, a gift from a very grateful Azulon. Some would say he could not have been _that_ grateful, but discretion was important too.

The bed Zuko would occupy was nearest the bedroom that Lo and Li shared. It, like the remainder of the house, was decorated with an ocean theme, seashells and starfish everywhere, pinks and peaches the colours of preference. It was the palace's opposite; whimsical, perhaps a bit tacky and soft.

They wore simple robes with swimsuits underneath, pink one-pieces that covered everything important. Skin sagged and muscles were not as firm as they once were, but for women in their nineties, they looked pretty damned good.

"Too bad the girls have to come too." Li winked at her sister and laughed mischievously. She patted the grey mass of hair at the back of her head and took a peak in the mirror. "Zuko likes that Mai."

"And Azula likes that Ty Lee."

"But we can still have some fun."

"Fun, yes." Lo rubbed her hands together. "His behind is so firm. I think that I'll sneak a pinch."

"A caress." Li added, "And I want to run my hands through that hair; it's so shaggy and wild."

"It's time to go meet them. We wouldn't want to keep the prince waiting. He's so impatient."

The twins stepped outside and shuffled along to the wooden dock. They beamed when Zuko came into view.

~~~~0000~~~~

"He almost threw up."

"I saw."

"We were beautiful once." Li pointed to the painting that depicted young twins, hair brown and thick, figures fit and voluptuous, skin smooth, faces lovely.

"We were."

The two old women sucked in their breaths as Zuko emerged from a small room, heavy and hot robes off, swim trunks on, lean chest bare. The prince shifted and stared down at the floor. Their scrutiny was intense and heat traveled to his face, turning the perfect pale a delicate pink.

"Um…"

" _Yum_ ," Lo whispered to Li.

Both frowned when Mai and Ty Lee and Azula joined the prince. Their private viewing time was over.

~~~~0000~~~~

The house was dark and all the young people slept, tired from their day in the sun and their night of revelations and wreckage. Lo and Li tiptoed out of their room, still lithe despite their years. They stood near Zuko's bed and stared down at his sleeping form. Hands hovered close but did not touch right away.

Then Li allowed her fingers to stroke his forehead, touching that hair too. His fretful expression, deep within some dream perhaps, softened. Lo ran her hand up and down the young man's arm and then stroked his chest.

"Can't get at that behind," she stated with disappointment. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Yes, maybe tomorrow," Li echoed.

They crawled back in their beds and recalled nights with Azulon, Zuko's face blending with the former Fire Lord's. Both slept late and well.


	6. Two of a Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teo and Zuko have a lot in common.

Teo watched from behind a stone pillar as Katara busied herself with sorting through the food supplies and beginning her preparations for lunch. Sokka was off fishing in some stream he'd discovered, rich with life and incredibly cold, perfect for drinking water. He'd seen Suki sneak off after him, eager for some time alone with her boyfriend.

Aang and Toph were training. The boy could hear the girl's laugh and the rumble of the earth as she shifted and molded it with consummate skill. The rest were poking about the Western Air Temple's ruins, still fascinated with the sheer antiquity of the place.

That left Zuko. The firebending prince stuck to himself most of the time, joining the group only for meals and strategy sessions. He and Aang sparred too, once a day. The firebender seemed almost desperate to impart all his knowledge and skill to Aang. Every bit the Avatar learned was something he could use against the Fire Lord or to defend himself at least.

Teo couldn't see Zuko anywhere and couldn't hear the sounds of fire either. Curious, he turned his wheelchair about and headed away from the main camp. Katara didn't notice. Teo hummed to himself as he wheeled along winding paths that edged uncomfortably close to the canyon's edge.

Briefly, he longed for his glider. The canyon would be amazing to soar through and challenging too; he would have to dip and twist his machine to avoid protruding chunks of rock and trees that clung to the rock faces, sticking out haphazardly. But that was back at home in the Northern Air Temple. He felt a pang of homesickness. Teo loved adventure and trying anything new, but his father and their home at the temple was a haven for the thirteen year old. He was accepted there and loved and the place embraced him as he imagined his never known mother would have.

When he finally did find Zuko, it was far from the camp, and the boy was tired. The firebender sat, doing nothing that Teo could see; just thinking, Teo figured. He wondered if he should approach the older boy or say something first. While he waffled, Zuko spoke.

"I know you're there. What do you want?"

"Nothing; I was just bored and everyone else is busy. I can leave….."

Zuko shrugged. "I don't own the place. Do what you want." He continued to stare out across the yawning expanse.

Undeterred, Teo wheeled up beside Zuko, giving the firebender a cheerful smile. "What are you thinking about?"

"Stuff." The prince waved his hand dismissively.

"Oh." Teo tapped his fingers on the arm rests of his chair. He wasn't sure what to say next. Zuko wasn't the most approachable of people.

The firebender's scar stood out, a huge shriveled mass of discoloured flesh, puckered and horrible looking. It was hideous and Teo wondered how much agony he had suffered because of it. The pain of the actual burn would be one thing. Seeing the ravaged flesh reflected in the eyes of others, day after day, month after month, would be quite another.

The Earth Kingdom boy felt a pang of sympathy. He stood out as well, with his useless legs. It was the first thing people saw. He knew that and accepted it. But he wished they would notice his smile first or his enthusiasm or anything other than the fact that he could not walk or run like everyone else.

He never knew his mother, but Teo still longed for her, for a warm feminine presence in his life. His dad was great and did a fine job, but he wasn't a mother. Teo watched the other kids at the temple with theirs, envied the scoldings and the hugs. Somehow, he figured, she would have made all the awkwardness, all the struggle that much easier to deal with.

"Are you just going to stand there all day?" Zuko slapped a hand against his forehead. He finally turned about and looked at Teo. "I, um, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. It's nice when people forget. It makes me feel more normal." He beamed then. "But I'm lucky my dad made me this chair and I can get around just fine."

Zuko wondered at the younger boy's cheerfulness. "Your dad made that?"

"He invents all kinds of things; he's amazing." Teo's voice burst with pride now and he wheeled a bit closer to Zuko.

"My father's the Fire Lord." It was Zuko's attempt at humour but his face distorted with hurt and sorrow.

"Yeah, I know. What about your mother?"

"She's….gone."

Teo didn't pry. 'Gone' could mean a few things. The slump of the prince's shoulders, the crack in his voice, the faraway look, all said pain, though.

"My mother died when I was a baby."

"Zuko jerked his head up quickly. "Was it…." The Fire Nation was responsible for so many Earth Kingdom deaths.

"No." Teo reached out and grazed Zuko's arm. It was a light touch, barely there. "There was a flood. My mom died and I, well, here I am." He indicated his legs.

Zuko let out a breath. "That's terrible; not having a mother, it's…..mine was really great." He rarely spoke of his missing mother. Her loss was an ache in his heart that never dulled, no matter the time that passed. All he had now were memories, some bright and clear and solid, others more ephemeral, like the mist that clung to mountaintops. Teo had a different ache, the ache of never knowing his mother's love or pride in him. Zuko didn't know what was worse.

"It is, but things are still good." It was strange saying that with a war going on and their eclectic group involved in a fight that could result in all their deaths.

Zuko gave him a wry smile. He wasn't certain he agreed with that sentiment exactly. But things were getting better. "Yeah, I guess."

"So, wanna do some exploring with me? It might be fun?"

The prince's first instinct was to say no, an emphatic 'no'. But he bit back that response and stood up instead. "Sure, let's go."


	7. Melody of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko disappoints Song.

"Settle down, Song. It's just dinner and they'll soon be on their way again."

"I know, Mother." The lovely young healer hummed as she worked alongside her mother in the kitchen. "I was just being hospitable."

_And friendly and curious._

They lived in a modest house outside the village. Song found herself wishing it were cleaner and neater and more luxurious. She wasn't a girl to put on airs. When knee deep in blood and bone and sick, it was impossible to worry about much of anything else. Her calling was to help people, not to impress them. Still, Lee was cute and enigmatic. He was a strange mix of bumbling and rude, shy and curt. Song was pretty good at reading people. She saw goodness and she saw pain. _That_ she'd seen in her own face and in her mother's and in the faces of those left behind when their healing was not enough.

Young men were at a premium these days. Many had gone to fight the war. Many had been taken. The women were left behind with old men and children, left to tend the businesses and crops and raise their families and to worry and grieve. It was a difficult life in some ways, but joyous in others. Helping was all Song had ever wanted to do. Her mother was a healer and everything simply fell into place. She considered herself fortunate to have found her calling so early in life. Others struggled for years, some never settling on anything. She supposed that might appeal to some, the change, the adventure, the uncertainty. But not her; she liked security.

"It's good that you're kind, Song. And we should share what we have. We're luckier than some." The woman wrapped her arms about her daughter and held her tight for a moment. "Now, go set the table. They'll be here soon."

~~~~0000~~~~

Song let the guests in a few minutes later, Mushi in the lead, smiling and friendly, Lee second, scowling and uncomfortable looking, eager to get away before he had even sat at the table.

"It's this way," Song said with a smile, her brown eyes bright with anticipation.

Mushi was gracious. "Ah, what a pretty home you have." And hungry. "That duck smells divine." He rubbed his belly and grinned at Song. The rash she had treated him for earlier was already much better.

The young woman giggled. "Mom's duck is the best." They entered a small dining room with a table, low to the ground. It was set prettily and Song gestured at the cushions. "Go ahead and sit."

Lee stared down at his hands while Mushi made small talk. A few minutes later, Song's mother entered, the roast duck on a platter, its savory aroma drifting about the room. She served and then settled down herself.

"Song tells me that you're refugees. We were once refugees ourselves."

Lee squirmed in his seat and Song wondered if perhaps her mother had said too much. There were those who did not want to talk about their sorrows and hardships. They would rather push the pain down and keep it there. She decided to tell their story and hoped it might set Lee at ease.

"We had to leave our village when I was little. The Fire Nation came and raided it and took away all the men." The old hurt welled up. Her heart felt as though it were being stung by a thousand bees or pierced with a hundred flaming knives. She missed him still and so much. "That was the last time I saw my father."

"I…" Lee hesitated. He looked up at Song. She saw pain again and understanding. "I haven't seen my father for a long time."

Song wanted to reach across the table and cover his hand with her own. It wouldn't take away his pain but it might ease it a bit, let him know that he was not alone. She felt helpless and she hated that. Song was accustomed to putting salves on wounds and splints on breaks, fixing things. The wound Lee had suffered, she could never fix that. The girl considered his face for a moment and wondered who could have done such a terrible thing.

"Is he fighting in the war?"

Mushi seemed to slow his eating as he awaited his nephew's response.

"Yeah, yeah he is."

~~~~0000~~~~

"There you are, Lee." Song pulled the sliding door closed and joined the young man outside.

The air was warm and the fireflies were in abundance, their tiny bodies lighting up the night like so many paper lanterns. Night bugs chirped and hummed, a symphony of sound. Lee said nothing. He barely glanced her way and Song felt rejected.

She edged along the wooden porch, closer and closer to Lee. "I know what you've been through." Her voice was soft as the air, kind and sweet and he relaxed for a moment, as though grateful to finally hear such words. He had gold eyes and such perfect features. She wondered where he had come from. Song yearned to hear his story, make a connection with Lee. She had her mother and she was loved, but Song was lonely for something else. "The Fire Nation hurt you." She couldn't resist the urge to touch now and reached out, Lee's scar beckoning to her. He captured her arm, holding it tight by the wrist without even looking. He dropped it then and continued to gaze off into the dark. Disappointed but not completely deterred, Song continued to talk. " They hurt me too and so many others. Look." She pulled up her hanbok and revealed a scar of her own. It covered a good portion of her ankle and calf, a red, angry mark Song was grateful she could hide. Zuko turned his head obediently. His undamaged eye widened. But still he said nothing.

Song sighed and stood up. "I've got work to do inside. I'm sorry if I bothered you."

"You didn't."

Happy that he spoke at all, Song smiled and headed back into the house.

~~~~0000~~~~

They were bidding each other farewell now. Lee had his wide brimmed hat on again and hovered near the gate, eager once again to be gone.

"You certainly enjoyed the duck, Mushi. I've never seen anyone eat so much!" Song's mother beamed with pride.

"I've done a lot of eating in my time. And it was delicious."

Song's mother handed him some leftovers. "For the journey."

"Thank you." Mushi bowed. "Junior, where are your manners? Thank these good people."

Song watched as Lee muttered his thanks, making a quick bow. There was so much she wanted to ask, so much she longed to know about the strange young man and his quirky uncle. But words caught in her throat, a tight ball of syllables.

And she watched a few minutes later, peeking around the edge of the partially open door, not quite ready to go to bed, as Lee snuck back and took one of their ostrich horses. She wanted to cry but she fought that too.

"You just had to ask," Song whispered as she shut the door. "I would have let you take him."

Disappointed angry and sad, she crawled onto her mattress and closed her eyes. But sleep would not come.


	8. Foam Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foaming Mouth Guy gets extra excited by Zuko's presence.

The Avatar was one thing. He'd been excited to see him; frothed and flailed and fainted like his condition, something deemed 'hyper-salivation and spastic muscle syndrome' made him do. It didn't happen all the time. Kyoshi Island and all its citizens would be bathed in foam if it did. No, he only foamed at the mouth like some rabid, crazed beast when a person or a thing or perhaps an idea really got to him.

His real name was Hui but everyone called him Foamy or 'that foaming mouth guy' or occasionally 'that freak'. It hurt, but he hid his pain behind sunny smiles and friendly waves and overall good cheer. Most people ignored Hui during one of his incidents. They were used to it by now. He was background, just like the wind in the trees. They stepped over his prone form knowing he would be up and walking within minutes.

_At least I never have to tell people what I like. My body takes care of that for me._

So when he first spotted the Avatar, his foam was fairly extensive. When he first spotted _Zuko_ , Prince of the Fire Nation, he slipped in the puddle he made and fell to the ground. Mired in slush and mud, Hui stared up at the onslaught of rhinos. The fierce beasts stomped and bellowed, angry creatures, ready to destroy what lay in their path.

He saw the rhinos and he was afraid. But the man who rode one, the man who led the charge, was magnificent.

_Fire Nation._

The knowledge both thrilled and disgusted him. Was it wrong to feel so strongly for the enemy? He belched out more foam, unable to stem the tide, completely at his body's mercy.

The other riders deferred to the beautiful man, wanted to please. And Hui found himself wanting to please too. A helmet covered what 'Foamy' imagined must be perfect hair. But pale skin and fierce eyes were visible and the edges of what must be a scar.

_He's been hurt. Oh dear! Oh my! I want to make him feel better._

He was a bender as well as a prince and huge gouts of orange and red burst from his fists. It was awesome to behold. Spellbound, Hui remained in the mud. The instinctual part of his brain, the part that screamed 'danger, danger' wanted to crawl out of the way. But the part of him controlled by emotions overrode all that. He accepted his fate. Hui would be a red smear in the snow or a lump of burnt flesh and bone. It didn't matter. The Prince might notice him, set those incredible eyes on him.

_It's worth it! I can die happy!_

He did not flinch when the prince's rhino charged. Another wave of foam emerged from his mouth. It poured down his chin, looking for a moment, like a white beard. Just before the beast trampled him to death, Zuko pulled hard on its reins, jerking it away from the fallen man.

_He didn't want to hurt me! He saved me._

"Get out of the way!" The prince's voice was a sweet melody to Hui's ears. He stared down at the frothing man. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Nothing you couldn't make better," Hui managed before the foam overwhelmed him.

The Kyoshi Warriors found him later, mud splattered, soaked with drool. On his face was the most contented smile any of the women had ever seen.


	9. Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and Zuko chat about Mai.

"I don't get it." Katara swung her legs, a slow, rhythmic motion. "It's obvious that you love Mai. And she, well, she was willing to die for you, willing to suffer Azula's wrath. That's big."

"I know." Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. He was exasperated. Little tendrils of flame wrapped themselves about clenched fists. "Mai gets me, you know. She understands my moods and my fears and she knows my life and what I've been through. She won't take crap from me either. And," he blushed then, his face a dramatic red, "she's so smart and beautiful and…" He wanted to say sensual and sexy but chewed on the words instead. Sometimes it was good to keep things just for him and Mai.

"I know she seems kind of aloof and disinterested but not everyone is a talker and not everyone feels at ease expressing their emotions. Some people keep things inside." Katara _was_ a talker and loved telling everyone just how she felt. She mothered and she hugged and she wept and she laughed, all out in the open. Mai's reticence was strange to her, not bad, just different. Sometimes she envied the older girl her cool grace and elegance. "And if everyone was the same, wouldn't life be boring?"

"Yes, and just because someone isn't all blubbery and weepy, that doesn't mean they don't feel!" Zuko was emphatic. "No offense, Katara." The waterbender shrugged. "Mai feels so much. I can see things in her eyes or the way she stands or the way her mouth twitches. And when we're alone, she shows more. She's like a secret treasure chest that only I get to open." Zuko was pleased with his simile and beamed.

"Mai's good for you and you're good for Mai. No need to convince me; it's them that need convincing." Katara laughed and jumped up from the bench. "I feel like bending. Do you want to spar?"

The palace garden's only fountain was nearby. Katara drew the water to her and coiled it around her arm like a creeping vine wound itself about a tree or a building. She swatted Zuko with a tendril of water, soaking the upper part of his tunic before drawing the water out again, leaving him completely dry.

Zuko called forth a flame, nurturing it in his hand before letting it loose on the young woman. She put out the flame with a huge wave of water. A puddle filled the space between them. Katara called the water, getting some extra from beneath the earth, froze it and threw little ice daggers at the Fire Lord.

One sweep of his arm and the daggers were nothing but droplets of water again, ineffectual. They smiled at each other and in that moment decided to stop. As benders they were pretty evenly matched. Water doused fire and fire melted ice, over and over again.

~~~~0000~~~~

"You guys making steam again?" Mai entered the gardens, standing beneath the shade of the apple tree.

"Steam, yeah," Zuko smiled in return.

They were immediately in their own world, a world that excluded everyone else. It wasn't intentional. It just sort of happened whenever they came together after a time apart, brief or extended.

The intimacy made Katara uncomfortable. She slithered away, returning the water to the fountain, off to find Aang and her own form of intimacy.

When Mai and Zuko sparred, Mai's blades glinted bright and beautiful in Zuko's fire. Kissed by flames, the metal grew warm in Mai's hands.


	10. Dance Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang makes Zuko feel loved.

"Zuko, get over here! I want you to dance with me." Aang grabbed hold of Zuko's arm, wrapping his hands around firm muscle, enjoying the warmth that seemed to radiate off the firebender. He wanted nothing more at that moment than for Zuko, Prince of the Fire Nation, his former hunter and tormentor, to share the moment of discovery and wonder. "You know you want to." His voice held a hint of teasing, but underneath was the worry that Zuko would deny him this pleasure.

Huge grey eyes stared at the taller boy. He released Zuko and clasped his hands together, as though in prayer. And he smiled his very best smile. Zuko grunted and complained and sounded gruff, but in the end he agreed. And the Avatar felt a bliss that started at his toes and worked its way up, making his entire body vibrate like the strings of some delicate instrument.

Together they performed the intricate moves, old firebending forms from a distant past, forms that felt pure and perfect somehow. Aang observed the joy on Zuko's face. The prince knew that they were connecting with something powerful and beautiful, something that might bring back to firebending a dignity and 'rightness' that had been lost for years now.

"I knew you'd have fun," the Avatar declared when they were done, ending the dance with a dramatic flourish. "You're grumpy and….."

"I'm _not_ grumpy." Zuko narrowed his eyes and stared down at the boy.

"Yeah, you are and you're moody and you have a bad temper and…"

Zuko crossed his arms over his chest. "Just how long is this list of yours?"

"I'm almost done. Let's see now; bad temper..."

Zuko began to tap one foot on the stone floor, a slow, steady, angry sort of beat.

"Oh, yeah, impatient." Aang pointed to Zuko's foot. "But, you're a good guy. Even back when you were, you know, all 'grr' and 'argh' and wanted to capture me, I knew it."

Zuko stopped tapping and the faint beginnings of a smile made his mouth twitch. "Really?"

"Yeah, remember that day, the one you brought up when you came here, the day you rescued me and I asked if you thought we could be friends?"

"I remember." Aang saw the pain and regret flicker in the prince's eyes. He watched as Zuko drifted away for a moment, lost in recollections. He wanted to take the pain away. Aang was a compassionate boy, someone who looked for the wonderful in people, even those who did not deserve such kindness. "It's okay, Zuko; you weren't ready then." He patted the prince's arm, with caution at first, not wanting to cross any lines, then with more vigor.

"I _wasn't_ ready. You're right. Agni, my head was so messed up then. I just wanted my father to love me. I just wanted to go home." The prince's voice sounded strangled, caught up in his throat like some stubborn bit of food.

"Zuko, it's okay. Everyone wants to be loved, especially by their parents. But your father, well, he's um, he's not really…."

"He's a jerk and a bad father and a murdering maniac who wants to burn the Earth Kingdom. I know. His love isn't worth anything. I don't think he even _can_ love."

"Exactly; but you have friends, Zuko, really good friends now. _We_ love you."

It might have been an exaggeration for some of the gang, but Aang did love the prince. He wanted him to smile and laugh and heal. The sight of Zuko's happy expression made his heart sing.

"You love me," Zuko repeated slowly, as if trying out the words for the first time.

"Yeah, now let's go find some dragons."


	11. Aura-l Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ty Lee can see much, Zuko's pain included.

Ty Lee was cold. She huddled near the bright flames and wrapped her arms about her knees, holding on tight, tucking her chin down. Once the sun set, and the breeze off the sea picked up, a _cool_ breeze, the temperature dropped steadily. It was nothing like the Poles, Toph was certain, but it was chilly enough. Besides, the atmosphere was icy too. Everyone was arguing, goading and baiting, avoiding, ignoring. She hated it.

Staring at her friends, she focused on Zuko. Ty Lee couldn't help but see his aura. It blazed and sputtered with his moods, a volatile thing, a mass of oranges and reds and purples, even a hint of black.

"He's in so much pain," she whispered to herself.

Her instinct was to get up from the sand and run to him, curl up against his lean body, absorb the heat that was part of him, whisper to him words of comfort and encouragement, tell him that everything was going to be fine. But Mai was there and she was Zuko's girlfriend and they had liked each other since they were little. It wasn't her place. It would never be her place.

_Everyone thought it was Azula I wanted to be with. But I liked Zuko's smiles and his kindness. Azula was never kind._

No one was paying her any mind. Zuko and Azula were caught up in their usual sibling game; Azula would bait and every time, Zuko bit. He couldn't seem to help himself.

_He doesn't learn. Azula's been doing the same thing since forever and he always falls for it._

Ty Lee felt sorry for Zuko. She figured he wouldn't appreciate pity and kept that to herself. She could offer understanding to the prince. But he never really saw Ty Lee. She was just Azula's other friend, the perky girl with the braid who did cart wheels and flips and giggled even if she was wounded deep inside.

_He called me a circus freak._

That hurt. She'd blinked back tears and bit down hard on her quivering lip.

_He didn't really mean it; he's not that cruel. It's his own hurt talking, his own confusion._

Zuko _was_ confused; confused about his family, his role, his place. Ty Lee understood that feeling. He wasn't comfortable with himself and decisions he had made. Mai helped but she didn't take away all the pain. Something would have to give eventually or Zuko would explode.

Ty Lee stared at his aura once again. It hung about the prince's head like a huge, swirling cloud. It made her anxious. She reached out with a hand, unconsciously, as if to touch it, him, make it all better somehow.

The talk grew louder. Zuko was shouting now, losing control. The firelight flickered, casting strange shadows across faces. Ty Lee felt uneasy all of a sudden. Something was about to happen.

"I'm angry," the prince declared as if it were some monumental revelation.

_Well, we all knew that._

"Who are you angry at?" Ty Lee's words were soft. She wished that she and Zuko were alone now. She could help him then, listen carefully, soothe and calm.

The other girls took up her words, repeating them like a religious chant.

"Who are you angry at?"

"Who are you angry at?"

Zuko put his hands against his head, trying to block out the sound perhaps or trying to force some epiphany out.

"Are you angry with Father?"

"No!"

"Are you angry at me?" Mai said the words casually, but her body tensed waiting for the answer.

"No!"

Azula smirked. She was enjoying Zuko's torment far too much. But that was expected. "What about me? Are you angry at me?" She spoke almost coyly and Ty Lee cringed.

The acrobatic girl awaited the answer.

"No!"

"Who are you angry at?" She whispered the words, but Zuko seemed to hear her amid the cacophony. He met her grey-eyed gaze for a moment, focusing solely on her.

Ty Lee's body tingled and not from the cold.

"I'm angry at myself!" The prince shouted the words, dropping his arms, clenching his fists. The fire went wild, affected by the sheer force of his emotions. Sparks alighted on the sand like little orange bugs. Ephemeral, their loveliness faded away.

Once again, Ty Lee stared across at Zuko. She smiled. His aura was still a complex mass of colours. But Zuko was a complicated young man. Some of the virulence had vanished and the colours blended more happily. Something had settled inside Zuko. He was calmer. The fire had settled too.

The unbearable tension was gone and Ty Lee could breathe easier.

_He looks so much better. I'm glad._

The urge to run to Zuko hit her once more. But Mai was there now. Ty Lee stared down at the sand and wondered what her own aura looked like.


	12. Bewitched at Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zhao is dismayed by his physical attraction to Zuko.

"He's a disgrace to the Fire Nation." Zhao tossed the tea set across the width of the tent and watched as the liquid dripped down one wall, seeping into the carpets that had been laid down for appearance and comfort.

Shards of pottery scattered and Zhao ordered an underling to clean up.

"His father should have burned more than his face; lying brat. He doesn't deserve any glory. It's me who will find the Avatar, not him. Challenging me to an Agni Kai? I'll finish what Ozai started." He chuckled then, a disturbing sound, and began to pace about the tent.

Others knew enough to stay well clear of Zhao when he was in one of his moods. Hot-headed to the point of stupidity and stubborn, the general had more than a bit in common with the prince. But he lacked compassion and had a cruel streak as wide as the crater that held the Fire Nation's capitol city. That set him apart from the boy. It was Zuko's weakness, his propensity to be soft that got him into trouble with Ozai when he was but thirteen years old.

The commander, newly promoted, recalled the day of _that_ Agni Kai with glee. He'd cheered the Fire Lord's actions, teaching the weeping, pleading boy a lesson, a public lesson, and leaving him with a permanent mark that would forever brand him as pathetic.

_The banishment was an added bonus._

He smirked.

_He thinks he can burn me. Ha! Stupid fool! I'll teach him another lesson._

Confident in his victory, Zhao smiled.

~~~~0000~~~~

Commander Zhao was not one to linger over scenery or contemplate the wonders of nature. If nature could serve his ends in some way, well then he would use it. If not, he gave it no thought. But that evening the sunset took even _him_ aback.

Hands clasped behind him, he stared up at the sky. It was on fire, the reds and oranges startling in their vibrancy. The entire world below seemed to glow as well.

"Perfect setting to humiliate _Prince_ Zuko; oh, this will be glorious." His second in command nodded his agreement. It was best not to say much to Zhao.

Zuko appeared, his queue swinging, his walk confident. He glared and Zhao glared back, his brown eyes hard. Their arena was small, a simple square structure with a watch-fire burning at each corner. Four men attended the commander while Iroh attended his nephew. The old man whispered words of encouragement or advice but the young pup brushed them off, impatient to get going, sure of his victory.

With great ceremony, Zhao disrobed from the waist up, exposing a muscular torso. He tossed his cloak to one of the attendants. The middle-aged man watched as the prince removed his.

_He's not a boy any longer, not in body._

Zhao could not help but notice the prince's fine physique. Obviously he worked out, sparred, practiced his bending, and often.

_**That's** _ _admirable, at least. There's not much else he can do, stuck on that puny ship month after month._

His mind went somewhere unexpected then, thinking about that ship and all its little rooms, and the prince bending and sweating, so young and…Disgusted, he gave himself a pinch and then grimaced at the jolt of pain. Zuko noticed and smirked. And damn if that smirk wasn't sexy. Damn if it didn't send a jolt of fire to Zhao's groin. Horrified now, almost convinced that Prince Zuko must possess some cache of spells, for why else would he feel this, this…..

_Agni, it's attraction._

His cheeks reddened. Quickly, to hide his embarrassment (and lust), Zhao knelt, tradition before an Agni Kai. He forced his eyes to stay focused on the ground, giving him time to gain some composure.

Taking three deep breaths, he stood again, just as the prince did. Zhao put on his best smug expression.

"This will be over quickly," he announced. He glanced at the young man's face and saw the ire. It pleased Zhao.

A gong sounded and both assumed firebending stances. What followed was quick and brutal with Zhao dominating. Every time he touched Zuko or drew close enough to smell his sweat, the commander's body tingled. He wanted to throw the prince down onto the floor and kiss him brutishly, bite him, hurt him. Angered, his bending was vicious and fierce and Zuko could hardly keep up. The prince floundered, losing some of his confidence.

Iroh's reminder to 'remember the basics' and 'break his root' inspired the young man. With a flurry, he did break Zhao's stance and the commander found himself on the ground, intense gold eyes staring into his, a flaming fist inches from his face. The prince's chest rose and fell, rose and fell and Zhao watched the motion and waited for the pain. It would eradicate this need he felt, burn it out of him.

"Do it!" He shouted the words. "Why are you waiting?" He met those gold eyes again and saw Zuko's decision reflected there. "Your father will be _so_ pleased to know that he's raised a coward."

The prince said nothing. He stood and turned his back. Zhao saw his opportunity. He could end the prince there and then, end Zuko's bewitching powers, smother the want that flowed through his own veins and arteries, alighting every part of his body.

He howled his rage and his confusion, raising a flame encased foot, ready to burn the brat. But Iroh, it was _always_ Iroh, stepped between the combatants, saving his nephew. The grey haired retired general stared down Zhao, shaking his head. "Shame, Commander Zhao, shame."

"You won't get away with this, Zuko. I'll get you. You wait. I'm coming for you."

Zhao dropped to the ground and growled when his attendants approached.

"Leave me!"

He remained there until well into the night, waiting for his body to cool.


	13. Good Vibrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toph and Zuko bond at the Western Air Temple.

The snoring was steady and thunderous. Sokka sounded like one of those Fire Nation track vehicles plowing its way through the earth. Katara's night noises were a bit more delicate, while Aang seemed to airbend through his nose, making a whooping sound every time he breathed in. The rest of their group mumbled and stirred and coughed and wheezed. Toph not only heard but felt every vibration.

Irritated, the little earthbender wriggled about in her sleeping bag. She gave up on slumber and sat, stretching, arms high above her head. Her black hair stuck out every which way and her clothes were rumpled. Yawning, she freed herself from the tangle of cloth and stood.

The absence of his perpetual tossing and turning and whimpering signaled that Zuko had left the security of the campfire circle and wandered off into the darkness. Curious, Toph padded away from the group. Her bare feet made a soft slapping sound against the stone of the temple. Her entire body was attuned to the vibrations beneath and around her. Anything that moved created some form of echo, something she could latch onto. That was how Toph saw and her 'vision' was extraordinary.

The girl sniffed. Night blooming flowers perfumed the air with delicate scents. All around her wings beat the air; insects, birds, bats. It rippled and pulsed like one living organism made up of a myriad of parts. And it felt deliciously soft and cool against her skin. As she moved along the stone walkways, her senses continued to be assaulted. Somewhere ahead was Zuko. Every move he made was like thunder to Toph. Her body shook with his bending. Then she heard it too; the grunts and bursts of fire, the low murmurs, self chastisement.

"Geez," Toph began as she approached the prince, "can't a girl get any sleep around here?"

Zuko whirled about, surprised by the intrusion and the comment. "Oh, uh, Toph." He said the name like it was something foreign and strange. He once preferred appellations like "Avatar" and "Water Tribe girl" rather than actual names. Using a name made the person more real, made you think about the harm you might cause him or the peril you might put him in. Names were tricky things. "I walked all the way out here so I wouldn't bother anyone. I'm s, sorry."

"You gotta stop saying 'sorry'. I was joking; JOKING. Do you get jokes?"

"Well, my father, he's not big on them and…"

Toph huffed, directing the air from her mouth upward, making her black bangs lift for a moment. "You gotta stop with the weird explanations too. Just relax, you know, take it easy. No one's going to bite. Well, Katara might."

"I think she might do worse than bite. I can't blame her. I followed her…"

"Yeah, yeah, followed, chased, betrayed, etcetera, etcetera. We know. Look, Zuko, you're doing all you can to make up for that. I know, Aang knows, Sokka knows. Katara will come around. She's got a stick up her butt, yeah, but she's a good person."

"Okay. So why are you up?"

"Too much snoring; too much tea."

"I have nightmares." He offered Toph the little bit of information like it was something precious. "Working out tires me enough sometimes that the dreams stop."

"Maybe you just don't remember them?"

He shrugged, giving his nose a pinch. "Besides, I need to get better. I need to work as hard as I can. If I can't teach Aang everything he needs to know, he won't be able to defeat the Fire Lord."

"You'll do fine. Those dragons sure helped, didn't they?"

"Yeah."

Toph noticed the dreamy quality his voice acquired. "I'll bet they were amazing."

"Amazing," he echoed. "And I thought they were all dead."

"Are you done practicing?"

"Sure, if that's what you want."

She flopped down to the ground, stretching out her legs and wriggling grubby feet. "I don't care. I'll stay if you like."

"That would be nice," he replied stiffly, as though he were attending a ball rather than bending in the jungle.

So Zuko went through several lessons that he had formulated in his mind. And then he went through them again. Toph observed silently, appreciating the young prince's grace and skill. When he dropped down beside her, worn out, Toph nudged his shoulder.

"Make a fire." She rubbed her bare arms. "I'm cold."

Dutifully, Zuko gathered some twigs and larger bits of wood, piled it neatly and then set it ablaze. "Better?"

"Mmmhmmm."

Zuko drifted off into thought, leaving Toph behind. She nudged him again. "Thinking about home?"

He nodded. "Home is complicated."

"Tell me about it. My parents kept me secret from almost everyone, just because I was born blind."

"Really?"

"Yep, I didn't fit into their perfect, rich world. Nope, I wasn't good enough. Leaving them and joining Aang was the best thing I ever did."

Zuko chuckled. "What are you? Twelve? How many things have you done?"

"Was that a joke?"

"I guess so." He seemed pleased.

Edging a bit closer, she spoke softly. "We're sort of alike, aren't we?" She could find herself falling for the prince. He was shy and awkward. He could be rude and abrupt. But he was kind and sweet and he was a fighter. And he possessed this dorky charm that warmed her heart. And he was lonely. Toph knew all about loneliness.

"If Katara wakes up and finds us missing, she'll think you've burned me to a crisp and run away." She let out a loud guffaw. "As if you could ever get anywhere near me with that fire of yours."

"Is that a challenge?" Zuko sat up straight and stared directly into her sightless eyes. "If it is; I accept."

Cracking her knuckles, Toph leapt to her feet. "Oh, this is going to be fun."


	14. Say Uncle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Mai's Uncle, the prison warden, share a charged few moments at The Boiling Rock.

"He's in here, Warden." The guard trembled slightly, terrified by the proximity of the hulking man, boss of the notorious Boiling Rock Prison.

Edging forward, the young female guard unlocked the door and slid it back. It moved silently along its track. Inside the empty cell, dressed in prison rags the colour of dried blood, stood Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.

The Warden observed the pup. He crossed bare, thickly muscled arms over his chest. Zuko was puny, scrawny, but wore a defiant look on that scarred face. He liked them defiant. It took longer to break them and breaking prisoners was entertaining. There was no room in the Boiling Rock for rebellion or back talk. Those who attempted escape, got involved in fights or committed one of several other possible infractions were duly punished. They soon learned, those rule-breakers, that there was no point to their behaviour, no hope of escape. The Warden was a good teacher.

Light from the corridor streamed into the dark cell. The Warden knew the way he looked in that light; huge, intimidating, fierce, cruel. He saw the way Zuko blinked, unaccustomed to the brightness. It made the boy seem vulnerable, even frail.

"Shut the door!" He growled the words.

The guard knew better than to argue. She yanked the door shut and stood sentry outside. The warden was silent, hulking in the shadows, sniffing the air for any scent of fear. He smiled then. The smile clung to his face, its grip precarious, as if it did not belong there.

" _Prince_ Zuko; traitor, scum, weakling, pathetic excuse for a Fire Nation citizen…"

The young man stared into the Warden's eyes, accepted the appellations with a shrug. He was used to them, it seemed.

"Loser, _heartbreaker_."

As soon as that word fell off his lips, the Warden got a reaction. The prince's one good eye widened comically while the squinty one surrounded by scar tissue, failed to keep up.

"H, heartbreaker? What are you talking about?"

The Warden edged forward, standing in the little bit of light from the window. It emphasized his bulk. The prince took one tentative step back. His hands, delicate looking things for a man, grazed the wall.

The middle-aged man sensed a change in the atmosphere; it wasn't fear he felt, but apprehension. He allowed the prince to squirm for a few minutes and watched as expressions flickered across the regal features, and thoughts flickered in those gold eyes.

Leaning forward, pressing his palms against the cool stone wall, he put his face close to Zuko's. He stared hard into those eyes, reading everything that he could.

"Come on, boy; think about it."

"Mai; do you mean Mai?"

"Aren't you a smart boy?"

"How, how do you know about me and Mai? Who are you?"

"Mai didn't tell you about me?" The Warden stood up straight again and stroked his chin. "I'm almost hurt."

"No, she didn't."

"Well, she told me all about how you shattered her heart into pieces and then stepped on them, grinding them into the dirt." For such a large man, the words were spoken softly. But his anger and indignation came through. No one hurt Mai, not without answering to him. "What did she see in you anyway?"

"I didn't mean to hurt her. I wanted to protect her from all this." Zuko waved his arms about.

The Warden continued to stare. Zuko licked his dry lips, nervous now, perspiring under the arms. The little pink tongue, running along those perfect lips discomfited the man. He cleared his throat and backed away. The boy was handsome, he supposed, in a pretty sort of way and why was he even thinking about Zuko's looks? What had gotten into him?

Inhaling deeply, he spoke again. "You need to think about what you do before you do it. I should toss you into the boiling lake and watch you sink, screaming. That might make up for what you did to my niece."

"You're Mai's uncle? Um, isn't the lake a bit extreme? Mai might get angry at you for that. I'll bet she wants to punish me herself."

The Warden saw hope in the prince's eyes now. He wanted to smash that hope like Zuko had smashed Mai's heart.

"Mai would understand. We're close, see, _very_ close." Mai's uncle reached out and with one thick fingertip, he stroked Zuko's cheek. There was a hint of stubble there, rough against the man's skin. The prince licked his lips again and gulped, taking in air as though he were starving for it.

Now that he'd touched once, the Warden wanted to touch more. Something about the prince drew him in. Was it the perverseness of caressing someone who represented everything he hated? Was it the idea of making Zuko squirm that appealed so much? Or was it something else, something that the Warden did not want to confront? He left the questions unanswered and stroked the other cheek, the scarred one. Then he pushed back Zuko's hair, roughly, and pressed his palm into the young man's forehead.

"I could do things to you, terrible things. And no one would question me. This is _my_ prison."

"Mai would question you; I know she would."

"Perhaps you overestimate your importance to my niece."

The Warden saw doubt then and he grinned, resembling a feral animal.

"I could have so much fun."

"So have it then." Zuko crossed his own arms. It seemed he was tired of playing games. "Do what you want."

Leaning in close once more, so close that they shared the same bit of slightly stale air, the Warden whispered, "No, I'll let Mai take care of you. She's here, you know. And she wants to see you. Think about that." His breath moved wispy bits of brown hair. He leaned in closer, almost brushing his lips against pale skin. "Yes, you think about that."

With a swiftness that belied his size, the Warden backed away. He shouted at the guard, ordering the door opened. He couldn't resist glancing at his prisoner once more. The boy looked good in his rags.


	15. Sisterly Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula will do/use anything to manipulate her brother.

Azula had a feeling that Zuko might come to her room, question her motives, reveal himself, just like he always did. As an invitation of sorts, she left her door ajar and waited, head on her pillow, eyes closed, anticipatory smile on her face.

And sure enough, he wandered in, uttered a brusque, "Why'd you do it?" and stood there rigid and angry.

His shadow was long, stretching across her bed, caressing her like a lover might. Azula shifted a bit, pretending to wake up, and yawned. The banter began, back and forth, her in control, always. Zuko was suspicious of her motives; nothing new there. He accused her of lying; nothing new there either.

She got up from her bed and circled him, her robe dangerously close to slipping off her shoulders. Azula sensed her brother's discomfort. It excited her. Control was her aphrodisiac. Control of Zuko was doubly arousing. He was older, the heir, yet she could twist and bend him like a blacksmith shaped metal.

He was oblivious. Zuko was always oblivious. That made her machinations all the more fun.

"Zu-Zu, believe what you want. But I'm on your side. I told father that you'd killed the Avatar to make things easier for you. You've had such a trying three years." She purred the words and placed a warm hand on her brother's shoulder.

He wouldn't be able to feel it through his armor, but Zuko flinched anyway. He scowled and his scarred face resembled the black clouds of an impending storm.

"You don't care about me! Don't pretend that you do."

Zuko was right, of course. Beyond what she could use him for, and her mild amusement, Azula didn't really care. She'd lived quite contentedly for three years with no Zuko. Sure, she missed having him to best, someone to pick on, someone to make feel stupid, but she managed with others.

"I'm hurt, Zu-Zu; you're my brother. And you're a hero now. You've come back to the fold where you belong. You've finally shrugged off Uncle Fatso and all his ridiculous ideas about peace and balance and how tea can save the world. You're home, Zuko." Azula painted her face with concern and pride.

"Home." He repeated the word, closing his eyes, savoring it. "Yes, I'm home."

How easy it would be to lean in and kiss him. His lips would be warm and soft and he might resist, but she could convince him somehow that it was all right, natural even. From a kiss to the bed; that would be more difficult, but it was possible. Her brain, sharp and efficient, calculated all the possible ramifications. She imagined how guilt ridden and torn her brother would be. And she imagined too, that a small part of Zuko would enjoy it.

But Azula wouldn't play that card yet. There was a long, bright future ahead of her. Time enough for that later.


	16. Collective Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Freedom Fighters (Jet, Longshot, Smellerbee) fall under Zuko's spell.

The three Freedom Fighters huddled together on the ferry's deck. It wasn't quite cold, but darkness sucked the intensity out of the Earth Kingdom heat. And a breeze had picked up, skipping over the lake's waves and drying perspiration from assorted weary and smudged faces.

"That guy," Smellerbee rasped. "He was so…"

"His name is _Lee._ " Jet was quick to supply the information. As soon as the scarred boy had entered his line of sight, Jet became enraptured. "And yeah, he's so…."

Longshot glanced at Smellerbee first, meeting her eyes beneath the brim of his tattered hat, before nodding methodically.

"Well whatever his name is, he's…"

They didn't come up with a descriptor, couldn't, really, because no word would do. Lee was something unique and special and all three, male and female, felt the tug of his allure. They'd watched him pick daintily away at his duck, his chopsticks extensions of his fingers, watched him sip the tea that his uncle had prepared, watched him watch _them_ with suspicious eyes. All of them saw vulnerability and sorrow and pain and anger behind the suspicion. And all of them wondered what Lee's story was. Why was he heading to Ba Sing Se? The old refrain of 'making a new start' told them nothing. What fire wielding monster had scarred him? Had Lee rushed in to save his parents perhaps, or a little brother or sister? Jet could relate to that scenario. He had watched his own parents burn and his entire village too. Had Lee spoken out and paid a horrible price?

The scar gave Lee a sense of mystery, something like the silence that Longshot employed. And his stealth skills, the way he used his dual sword, all spoke of special training or years of self discipline, teaching himself. He was a wonder and an enigma.

"What did he say to you?" Smellerbee nudged Jet. She was jealous that her leader had spoken to Lee without her.

"Nothing really, but he was thoughtful and quiet…" He wanted to add that the moonlight glimmered on pale skin, the gravelly voice made him shiver with something he could not quite identify and muscles rippled beneath the threadbare tunic.

"Do you still think he'd make a good Freedom Fighter? I mean what exactly are we fighting now?" The girl scratched her nose and smudged a bit of the face paint she always wore. Lee wasn't the only one who was lost.

"I'd love him to join us, Bee. He's perfect." Jet ran a hand through his thick, unruly brown hair and sighed. "I mean, there must be _something_ in Ba Sing Se we could do together."

"We need to find jobs, Jet." Longshot put a hand on Smellerbee's shoulder. She sounded agitated now and worried. She smiled then. "Maybe we could start our own business; we could be, well, um…"

"Thugs?" Jet supplied with a smirk. "Or maybe explosives makers or police?"

All three were resourceful and intelligent but had no specific training. Their skills lay in fighting and stealing.

"Okay, okay; but we'll have to get something, Jet. We're starting over, remember, doing the right thing now."

"Well, whatever we do, I'm going to ask Lee along." The thought of never seeing the pent up scarred boy after they made landing in the Earth Kingdom's capitol made Jet feel bereft.

Bee took Longshot's hand and squeezed before letting go and giving Jet a hug. "Agreed."

"Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

~~~~0000~~~~

So the trio lay down, Bee in the centre, her back against Jet's. Longshot faced away from her, resisting his urge to pull the girl in tight and closed his brown eyes. Slumber came swiftly and the sleep of the exhausted and drained was theirs for a few hours. But later, once the ferry was cloaked in a silence disturbed only by the slap of waves against its bulk, all three of them dreamed.

Lee strode through each of their dreamscapes, clad in clingy ninja black, wielding his dual sword, the blades arcing through the air, making hissing sounds each time he made a graceful swipe. And each of the Freedom Fighters moaned, completely caught up in watching dream Zuko battle invisible foes. It was as though they were one mind, a collective unconscious, all of them obsessed with Lee.

Dream eyes followed their new acquaintance's lithe body as he jumped and whirled and crept along dark alleyways, and through thick forests, silent and graceful. They watched as dream Lee pulled aside the black cloth that covered part of his face and gifted them each with a brilliant smile.

They awoke at the same time, embarrassed and warm. Shifty eyes looked anywhere but at the other two.

"Um, so, I'm gonna take a walk around the deck." Jet sprang up from the unyielding wood and walked off, heading toward the little corner that Lee and his uncle had claimed for themselves. He wiped at his face as though trying to sweep the intense dream away.

"I had a strange dream," Smellerbee confessed to Longshot. "It was about…" She hesitated for a moment. "It was about Lee."

The archer inclined his head and stared gravely at his friend.

"You had the same one, didn't you?"

He nodded and took Bee's hand.

"And so did Jet. How is that possible?"

She gazed across the ferry's deck searching for the subject of their discussion. There he lay beneath a thin blanket, body rigid and stiff even in sleep, as though he guarded himself against some hurt or other. He was beautiful and suddenly the answer was obvious.


	17. Zuko Trumps Lake Laogai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee, tea shop server, enchants the Joo Dees and then Long Feng.

Long Feng paced his office, hands joined behind his back, braid swinging. His eyes were narrowed and his face marred by a deep scowl. Something was amiss with the Joo Dees. All that careful conditioning (those people of a more crass mindset might call it brainwashing) all that time and effort, and the women were running about the city swooning over some boy.

"How?" The word was a guttural growl. "Who?''

Could someone be overriding the conditioning, placing their own on top of his? Was that even possible? And who was this peasant boy? Why was his flock of women so infatuated? Long Feng was determined to discover all the answers.

~~~~0000~~~~

He opened the door to his office and eerie green light spilled out into the corridor.

"Come in, Joo Dee."

The woman, brown haired and green eyed, pretty and graceful, glided into the room, her slippered feet not making a sound. She inclined her head downward, a gesture of respect.

"Look at me!"

Joo Dee met Long Feng's gaze. Her own was unblinking.

"You're not performing up to standards. The Avatar and his annoying gang of little friends have caused enough trouble in my city. Now I hear there is someone else, some tea shop flunky, who has captured your attention."

The woman lowered her eyes again. A blush of shame coloured her cheeks. "It's true," she managed to whisper.

"Perhaps you need a trip to Lake Laogai." Long Feng rocked on the balls of his feet and watched Joo Dee's eyes closely. Her pupils did not dilate. She did not become a mindless puppet. Instead, she uttered the one word that could shock the leader of the Dai Li most.

"No."

"No!" he roared in reply. "You dare deny me, Long Feng?" He grabbed her by the arm then wrenching it hard. "Take me to him. Take me to this boy!"

~~~~0000~~~~

The carriage ride was silent, but that silence was laden with rage and confusion and anticipation. They passed other Joo Dees along the way, all moving quietly along the streets, perfect hair and perfect clothes, hands tucked demurely inside wide sleeves. Long Feng instructed the driver to stop three times and they picked up three more of the women. The carriage seemed crowded then and all the women squirmed, exchanging strange glances of subterfuge. All of them felt guilty but defiant.

"Here," the first Joo Dee said, pointing out the carriage window to an inconspicuous tea shop. "He works here."

They were in the city's Lower Ring, a place that Long Feng tried to stay away from. And the Joo Dees did not belong there either.

"How did you end up seeing him? You're not supposed to go to this filthy part of the city." He shook with anger now.

The tale of their discovery involved one of the Joo Dees spotting the young man in the Middle Ring with a girl, near the Firelight Fountain. Overcome with an unexplainable urge, she had followed him home to the Lower Ring. There she watched as he clamored up the stairs of a decrepit apartment house and then entered a small set of rooms. She continued to watch as he undressed near his rough cot, candlelight flickering over the pale skin of his chest. The Joo Dee recalled heat rushing through her body at the sight.

The following morning she told other Joo Dees of the boy. Soon they knew where he worked, his name and some even dared to stop for tea. It was rebelliousness beyond any that the women had ever engaged in. And none were certain why Lee drew them. It could be his physical beauty, the way he carried himself. It could be the sense they got that he was destined for greater things than a grimy tea shop and did not belong there. The way he stomped grumpily amongst the tables and back to the kitchen endeared them all. His all too rare smiles made their hearts flutter. Whatever conditioning Long Feng and his agents perpetrated beneath Lake Laogai in those damp, cavernous rooms wore off. And it was all because of Lee.

"It's time to go to Pao's; Lee is waiting," one of the Joo Dee's suggested in a sing-song voice.

The others joined in and before he could say 'I'm a corrupt bastard', Long Feng found himself out on the street and peering in the tea shop's window. The Joo Dees surrounded him and he was forced through the door, the press of their bodies too much to resist.

Lee wiped tables, dropping tea cups carelessly onto a tray. Every move was graceful. Every move showed off the fine physique beneath the drab tunic and pants he wore.

"What are _you_ staring at?" He fired a miserable look at Long Feng. "Order something or get out."

Pao scurried out of the kitchen. He glared at Zuko before stumbling over his own feet in his haste to reach Long Feng.

"Forgive the boy; he's a bit surly."

"Oh, he's forgiven," the Dai Li's leader purred. "How could anyone ever get angry at Lee for anything? Look at him. He's beautiful."

Pao scrutinized his young employee, his gaze focused on the massive scar that ruined one side of his face. "I, um, never thought about it."

"You never thought about it," the Joo Dees echoed. They shook their heads as one entity, bewildered by Pao's lack of appreciation. "We must change that."

Long Feng let loose a loud laugh that filled the tea shop. His pupils were huge and black and all he wanted was to sit down at a table and for the rest of the day, the rest of his _life_ , watch Lee.


	18. Tag Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Suki enjoy watching Zuko train.....maybe a little too much.

They were all safe, for the time being at least. Though the final battle loomed, a terrible shadow, everyone was in good spirits. Ember Island, the Fire Lord's beach house, was a fine retreat, a luxurious one even. They slept in beds, cooked in a kitchen, dined in a beautiful courtyard. A private beach was theirs to use for pleasure or for training. If there had been no war, no power mad Fire Lord, no frightening princess, their situation would be ideal.

Suki wandered down to the beach. It was early, the sun had barely risen, yet Sokka had not been in bed beside her where he belonged. The Kyoshi Warrior figured that perhaps he'd gone for a swim or a walk or somewhere private to think. He contemplated things and life more than a lot of people gave him credit for.

As her feet hit the cool black sand, she noticed Zuko standing a few inches from shore going through a series of katas. The gentle waves rolled in over his bare feet, caressing him before retreating again, an endless cycle. He was not firebending, simply moving his body He was limber and light-footed, beautiful to watch. Suki found herself taken in by Zuko and stood where she was, admiring every move. The prince was oblivious to her gaze, his gold eyes closed.

A movement off to the side attracted the red headed girl's attention. Someone else watched Zuko, someone very familiar. Sokka's head, distinguished by his wolf's tail emerged cautiously from behind some rocks. He spotted Suki and both of them blushed, their faces a furious shade of red.

Creeping along the sand, hunkered down like some weird beast, Sokka made it to where his lover stood.

"I, uh, what are you doing, Suki?"

"What am _I_ doing? What were you doing over there behind the rocks?" She gave him a poke in the chest.

"Oww," he hissed. "I was watching Zuko train. It's good to keep an eye on him. He's still technically the enemy, you know."

"You don't believe that, Sokka." This time she gave him a slap upside the head. He narrowed his blues eyes. "You were staring at Zuko because he's, well, he's…"

"Hot?" Sokka supplied. "In a firebender-y kind of way, I mean." He wiped a bit of moisture away from the corner of his mouth and his eyes found the prince again.

"Muscular, in a manly kind of way….not that you're not…..a man, I mean, Sokka." Green eyes returned to Zuko as well, and still the firebender remained unaware of their lecherous scrutiny.

Sokka stroked his chin, fingering the one and only hair that managed to grow there. "That scar, it gives his face character, don't you think? He'd be awfully pretty without it. And I'll bet he can grow a beard too."

"As long as it's not a mustache like Haru's." Suki laughed at the memory of the Earth Kingdom boy and the pride he took in that bit of hair along his upper lip. "And yeah, I like the scar." The pair of them edged their way down the beach a little bit at a time. Eventually they were close enough to see the sheen of sweat on Zuko's chest and back. It seemed to glimmer in the early morning sunlight. "I have to admit, I'm surprised, Sokka."

"That I'm man enough to acknowledge my admiration of another male form?" His huff was indignant. "It's not like I'm in love with him. Oh, Tui, are you?"

"No, don't worry, Sokka. But those lips; I wouldn't mind tasting them."

Sokka nodded. "I know. They look so delicious."

"Do you think we should?"

"He might kill us." Sokka shrugged. "But it would be worth it."

As one, Sokka and Suki bore down on the unsuspecting prince; he never knew what hit him.


	19. The Only One Who Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mai is IT for Zuko.

"You know, Zuko, if I was the jealous type and if I actually thought you were suave enough to flirt with people, male and female, I would be really upset right now." Mai raised her eyebrows and stared at Zuko, _hard_. "You've been getting letters, lots of letters, from people all over the world, people infatuated with you. They all met you before you were Fire Lord, during your banishment or after you joined up with Aang. In fact, they're all _jealous_ of me." She rooted around in the desk for a bundle of scrolls and tossed them at her lover before crossing her arms over her breasts. "Take a look. Kenji thought they might be some sort of security risk. Do you remember any of these people?"

Puzzled, the Fire Lord opened one that had landed in his lap. The ink was smeared in spots as if the writer had wept or, no, there were little crusty bits too, dried hard on the paper. Someone had left saliva, foamy saliva on his letter. It had to be someone with _**hyper -salivation and spastic muscle syndrome**._

"I don't know anyone with H-S or SMS, certainly not anyone with both; poor guy." His name was Hui and he was a few years older than Zuko. He claimed to have met him on Kyoshi Island more than a year earlier, back when he still had his queue apparently. It had made an impression on the man. "Maybe he saw me." Zuko flushed with shame. Kyoshi Island was not one of his finer moments. "But I don't understand the rest."

Mai smirked. She had an idea what was going on but kept her mouth shut. Zuko continued, opening scroll after scroll after scroll. There was a healer who forgave him for stealing her ostrich horse and longed to look deep into his gold eyes once more. A pile of notes from Ba Sing Se, startlingly similar in content and style spoke of Zuko's form and beauty, the way he could carry a tray, the way his apron clung all the right ways to his body. Someone named June, a bounty hunter, expressed lewd desires and mentioned muscles and whips. Mai had laughed outright at that one. A cabbage merchant begged for permission to visit the palace, cart full of his beloved vegetables, and all for Zuko.

"Now that I think about it, Zuko, our friends and people around here, Lo and Li and even my uncle have been acting a bit strange around you. If I didn't know any better, I would say they're, well, enamored, infatuated, smitten. Have you noticed anything?"

Mai moved to stand behind Zuko, leaning down, resting her chin on his shoulder. Her eyes scanned the words of the next letter and she couldn't help but giggle.

"What? No, I haven't noticed anything." He glanced up at Mai, his eyes full of innocence and dismay.

Mai gave his cheek a quick kiss. "Well you wouldn't, would you?"

"But now I'll feel weird around everybody. Lo and Li? Seriously?" Zuko put a hand over his mouth and dry heaved. "Oh, Agni, Mai; your uncle? He was all weird when he interrogated me. I thought he was just, kind of, you know, strange and trying to intimidate me." He jumped up and scrolls scattered everywhere. "I need to throw up now."

The young woman sighed and stood outside the bathroom, waiting patiently for Zuko to finish. She wrapped a piece of shiny black hair about her finger and then let it loose again. The Fire Lord emerged after a few minutes, wan and drained looking.

"So, old ladies find you hot; get over it." She giggled again.

"I think, I think they changed my diapers." He bolted back to the bathroom.

By the time he came out the second time, Mai had tea and biscuits waiting. "Eat something," she ordered, pouring him a cup of tea.

"There must be something wrong with me, Mai? What do I do?" Dropping his head into his hands with a dramatic flourish, Zuko shook it slowly back and forth.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Zuko. Trust me." She gave him a lascivious look, casting her eyes up and down his body. "You're handsome, that's all. And you're hot and sexy and sweet and shy and adorable and I love you."

Zuko lifted his head. He was smiling. "You know there's no one but you, right? I mean, these people…" he shuddered, "I don't give any of them a thought. It's always been you. No one else matters."

"I know." Mai was serious now. "And it's the same for me; only you, Zuko, only you." She nabbed a biscuit and ate it systematically. "Hey, do you want to read some more of those letters?" She waited for a response. "Are you all right? Do you need to use the bathroom again?"

He didn't have time to reply.

~~~~0000~~~~

**The End**


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